Things You Say When You Think No One is Listening
by howdyrockerbaby1
Summary: Call me crazy, but I've always hated hanging up on people, whether it's the middle of the conversation or the end. MarcoDylan OneShot


There is a moment at the end of a phone call, within the split second between a 'goodbye' being uttered and the line going dead. In my 19 years of life I've come to the reasoning that it is exactly at this moment that you learn the most about a person. It is in those few seconds that you hear someone with their guard completely down, unbeknownst to them, they are in a moment of vulnerability. People say things. Words are spoken that are not meant to ever be heard. Similar to the things you whisper when you know your companion is fast asleep, these are truly the things you say when you think no one is listening

Call it a quirk, a tic, a mannerism or whatever else you wish, but ever since I can remember, I've hated hanging up the phone first. Every phone conversation I have always leads to me waiting for that 'click' followed by dead air to tell me that yes, the conversation is officially over.

I remember when I was awkward, twelve, and "straight" I remember getting in a fight with my then girlfriend over something that was very much my fault, but I wasn't willing to admit it. After 10 minutes of arguing, I slammed the telephone down onto the cradle in anger, only to pick it up immediately, dial the digits and apologize profusely… but only for the hanging up part. We then talked for several minutes more, in which things appeared to be getting patched up. Her mother called her to dinner, and she said goodbye with the promise of another call later that evening. After I responded with a timid 'okay' and 'bye' I faintly heard her call me a few choice words before the line went dead. She didn't call me back that evening, and so ended our 13 day relationship.

Once when I was 15, less-awkward and "straight" I was awoken by a Friday night/Saturday morning phone call at 2 am from a girl named Georgina that IU sat next to in my 6th period English class. This early morning call was to inform me that I was 'like so the hottest guy in all of grade 10, maybe grade 11 even!' followed by the shrieks of what could only come from a slumber party. Obviously distracted by the giggles of approval from her friends, Georgina forgot to hang up the phone, leaving the line open for a full five minutes, allowing me to unwillingly listen to such thrilling topics as whether or not my ass existed, and contemplating just how long it took for me to get my 'godlike' hair so perfect each day. I was embarrassed for myself as well as for the girls, and cursed myself for being so retarded as to be afraid of hanging up a telephone first.

Much more recently, when I was 18, gay and proud I met Marco, and our nightly phone conversations evolved into a relationship. We'd been dating for several months and I'd taken him ice skating for the very first time. It didn't take me very long to notice that his grace in carrying himself, walking and dancing did not translate to grace on the ice and I spent most of the afternoon either catching him from slipping or pulling him up from the cold floor after a fall I'd failed to prevent.

I dropped him off at his house only to find my room line ringing as I walked into my bedroom just 15 short minutes later. We chatted lightly for an hour before a knock on my door informed me that dinner was ready. I told Marco that I had to go, which he responded that he should probably go and get a heat pack to try and thaw out his still frozen butt anyway.

After the usual exchange of 'goodbye's and 'call me later's I sat in silence, waiting for the normal and almost relieving 'click' that would certainly come. Through the still open line I heard the soft sound that I assume was Marco flopping down onto his bed, followed closely by a long and deep sigh and "I love you, Dylan." The line went dead immediately after, and the words were spoken as if to no one in particular.

I sat frozen in my computer chair, telephone still at my ear for several minutes and It wasn't until I was heard another knock at the door—this one sounding much more annoyed than the last—that I finally moved, and placed my cordless phone on my desk. All throughout dinner I thought about what I'd heard Marco admit. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind whether I loved Marco or not. I was certain that there hadn't been a single day in which I hadn't thought of how much I loved him, it just never occurred to me that Marco could possibly love me back.

I'd promised to call again at ten that night and call I did, though I'm not entirely sure I called for this reason. Maybe I just wanted to replicate the moment from earlier, to know whether or not I'd hallucinated the entire event. This conversation was considerably shorter, as Marco had only just realized how much homework he had to do before classes the next day. I waited with bated breath and my heart soared when once more I heard the words "I love you" straight from Marco's mouth followed by the almost immediate dead air.

From then on I was entranced by the whole ritual. Most of the time spent during the day was in waiting for those blessed few seconds between 'goodnight' and the 'click' that those blessed few words were said, often times in a whisper. It wasn't until a full two weeks later when, after bidding goodnight to each other one more time that I realized what I was doing was silly.

It was at the end of that conversation, after bidding goodnight to each other one more time that Marco asked with a noticeably shaky voice "Dylan?"

"Yes!" I answered quickly, and a little too eagerly, hoping that Marco would at last direct those words to me, instead of to his empty bedroom.

"Oh. Uh-uh-I-it's nothing. I'll see you on the front steps of school tomorrow 'kay? Oh and um—"

I waited silently as my heart loudly cheered him on inside my chest.

"—sleep well, 'kay?"

I assured him that I would and told him 'goodnight' once more before waiting in silence. This time the line stayed open for a long time, letting his words hang in the air, making them appear even more real to me. I saw my opportunity and took it.

"Marco! I lo—"

And my words were silenced by the—this time unexpected—click.

The next morning I stood, waiting for Marco, on the steps of Degrassi: CS, lost in thought. It wasn't until I felt his hand push lightly on my stomach and heard him say "Dylan?" questioningly that I snapped back to reality. I reproached him for hanging up on me last night, telling him that I had something especially important to tell him. He stood before me for a moment, more than a little bit confused, attempting at an apology about not knowing that I wasn't finished before trailing off into silence.

Placing my hand on his shoulder, I smiled and started. "Well what I was going to say was—"

I leaned down and kissed him, deepening it for a moment before pulling away and whispering into his ear "—I love you too."


End file.
